Who Guards the Guards?

by RangerOfRhudaur

Rating: teen
Tags: Violence, Death, Thunderlane, Gore, Original Character, Dark, Thriller, Equestria Girls, Horror
Length: 2004

Thunderlane tells his story.

Thunderlane's been training for the Guard at an...interesting time. A convenient time, too; his home might be able to make good use of him, soon!

Assuming the enemy ever leaves the fogs, mists, and rains they seem to be content to haunt for now.

And assuming he survives it when they decide to.

Continuity: The Song of the Spheres
Branch: The Children of the Storm

Published 2021-06-09 19:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-06-09 19:30:01 UTC

2400-0100

"Load, lock, loose!"

The order was obeyed, a wave of bolts sizzling out of the cadets' crossbows, sparking through the rain, and fizzling out on the invaders' grey hide.

"Load, lock, loose!'

Another wave of electricity leapt over the wall, though Thunderlane didn't bother watching it; it would do no good, they all knew it, they were just hoping that they were wrong.

A cry went up from the main gate, quickly followed by the bestial roaring of the invaders as they were met with spears. Their hides were tough, but not impenetrable, though he'd yet to hear any of their death-rattles. Another scream quickly followed, another cadet stolen away into the night.

"Load, lock, loose!"

Three waves Thunderlane's discipline had fired off while he was distracted, three waves that had done little to slow the enemy. Even where the bolts managed to find a joint, they sputtered out before they could stun. All they managed to do was light up their enemy, show them what had been haunting them, hunting them, from the shadows for so long.

Eyes like lanterns glared up from below, as they'd glared out at Cloudsdale for the past weeks. They'd hidden in the rain, spying on them, melting away like fog whenever they attempted contact. Some dismissed them as simple shapes the mind drew with the showers and shadows, though the occasional footprint, stolen sheep, and more definitive look disagreed with them.

A face sprang up before Thunderlane's, suddenly appearing out of the rain like they finally had tonight, and he smacked it aside with his crossbow. Load, lock, loose, a scream of pain. "They're over the walls!" a voice like his shouted; it may have been his, he didn't know. There was a thump to his side, another invader, and his staff was in the air, trying to sweep it back over the edge.

Whip-like fingers lashed around his staff and tore it away from him, and teeth like stones roared in his face, then his boot went in its bulging belly and it stepped back. His sword sang out and slashed its cheek and it went howling over the wall, into the camp.

There were others there, and more were coming; they were over the rear wall, pouring in like the rain poured down. More screams rose up, more cadets stolen away into the night, and they pushed through the gate, and now they were pouring in like a torrent.

Another face came out of the rain, and he almost struck it before he realized it was Sergeant Stormbreaker. "Mount up," he ordered. "Cloud Chaser rescued some of the horses, but the gap's closing. We need to go, now."

And then he was off the wall and in the saddle, a dozen and half around him, and then the whistle shrilled, and they were off at a gallop. The things dove aside as they charged, falling away before their weapons could even touch them, and Thunderlane heard what almost sounded like prayers rise from their warted throats.

But then he heard another voice, one much shriller, like an icicle, and there was a Man standing in their way, riding some strange beast that Thunderlane didn't even try to understand. The Man made his blood as cold as his skin, but still he rode on, willing his mount forward after the sergeant, the sergeant who charged the Man, sword held high. A whip cracked, and suddenly there was fire along the sergeant's arm, golden fire rippling across him, hurting him, and the whip-wielding Man laughed cruelly while his mount leered at the sergeant's. His laughter was cut off at a cry from the sergeant, crying out as he pulled on the whip, tearing the Man off his mount and throwing him into his armored fist.

The things, which had begun cautiously approaching at the Man's call, now bolted away again, and Thunderlane and the others were past them, past the sergeant, and Thunderlane saw his determined eyes one last time and heard them say 'Go.'

This order, too, was obeyed, though those who could obey were far fewer than those who'd obeyed his first command. The seventeen survivors rode away at a gallop, through the driving rain and darkness. They didn't stop or slow, not for mud or hill or blood-chilling scream, not until the rain began to drizzle out at last. Whatever those things were, they never left the rain, or maybe it was the rain never left them. The rain stopped, the clouds fell behind, the stars came out. They were safe.

They paused, and Thunderlane did a quick count; they'd lost four others, he didn't know what to. The twelve others looked lost, too, as lost as he was sure he'd feel once he could think about what had happened. But that wasn't now; he couldn't think, not when the others needed him. They'd lost the sergeant, and the other sergeants, too; they needed a leader, and he needed to step up. He was the star cadet, now he needed to show that he could be a star Guard.

"We make for Mountainboss," he croaked. "Ride hard, ride fast, don't stop."

"What happened back-" Cloud Chaser began asking, and Thunderlane finished, "-there's a question we can ask later. For now, we ride. The-the sergeant, he said 'Go,' and-and I'm going."

"We should be going," Angel Wings said. "but to Windy Hill. We need to tell the governor, they'll be able to tell the other great houses. Mountainboss...I don't know if Mountainboss can take care of this alone. I'm not sure they'll be able to do it with Northend's help. What if there are more of them? What if this is just the beginning? One mountain can't do this alone; we need Cloudsdale."

"But Windy Hill's," Thunderlane pointed back the way they'd come, back into the rain, back into the screams. "that way. Wh-why don't we just tell Mountainboss and have them tell the governor?"

"You know what phone service has been like recently," Angel snapped. "Someone's going to have to tell Windy Hill in person, and what did Sergeant always tell us? 'The Guard's there-'"

"'-to be Homestria's someone,'" Thunderlane finished, bowing his head. "Heard, received, understood. We ride for Windy Hill, then. We'll need to-to give the camp a wide berth, though, in case those-those things try to finish what they-they-they-"

Cloud Chaser came over and held him as he threw up on the grass.

They split up, to make catching them harder; staying together was only a strength if they had a hope of winning a fight, and they didn't. Five pairs, one trio, spreading out across the grass. Thunderlane could see some of the others as they started their ride back, but then they were gone and it was just him, Cloud Chaser, and a green recruit shaking in their boots. Thunderlane's heart pounded as he looked across the grass, frantically darting his gaze around in search of those things. He saw none, though; the sky was clear, and they came in the rain.

Time passed, and then the rain came, only a drizzle now. He and the others drew closer together, keeping wide eyes open for any of the enemy. The newbie chattered something about waiting for daylight, but Thunderlane shook his head; the things never left the rain, but they didn't seem to need to leave the sun. They weren't bogey-monsters that vanished at dawn. Waiting for daylight would be a vain hope, and a dangerous one; the longer they waited, the longer the rain poured down, the shorter it would be until more of them screamed as they were dragged away.

Then he and the others heard something, and galloped behind a hill and hid. A pair of the enemy, of those things, was approaching, barely visible over the hilltop through the rain and night. They were croaking and gurgling and snarling, and then he realized they were talking. Croak croak snarl master, croak puff puff gurgle far away. Croak snarl snarl rasp, gurgle? Croak esqvens, croak croak. Snarl, croak gurgle puff puff puff, whistle- And then they paused as one's lantern-eyes turned on Thunderlane.

He remounted and tried to ride away with the others, but quickly found himself swept off his horse and tangled in a thick net. Oddly, he noted it smelled of fish. There was a thud as one of the things landed next to him, and desperation gave him dexterity, allowing him to bend and move so that he could draw his sword and frantically start slashing the net, but then he was twisted again as the thing picked him up and croaked at him.

He was almost face to face with it, staring at its thick lips, snake nose, and bulbous eyes bulging out from the sides of its head. It frowned and bellowed angrily at him, then turned aside to look at his overturned mount. Strangely, its face softened, and it gurgled what sounded like soft words while its hateful glowing eye looked away from him. Now desperation gave him strength, and he lunged forward in the net, stabbing at the monster's eye with his sword.

It plunged in up to the hilt, and there was no cry of pain or death-rattle, the thing simply fell dead, the lamps behind its eyes winking out and turning them to glass. Its lips still parted in speech, it swayed a step, then let go of the net, arms slumped to its sides, and then its thick legs collapsed and it fell in a heap.

Thunderlane clambered out of the net, then stepped back and looked cautiously at the thing. It made no move. Warily, he walked over to it, extending his spear, and it still didn't move. He walked over to its fallen head and pried his sword out, and it came out slick with blood and fleshy pink, and more blood poured from the wound. It still didn't move. It was dead.

Cloud Chaser's face came up before his, white with fear. "Thunderlane, are you okay?" she asked frantically. "We-we were trying to help you, but the other one got in our way until it-it ran off. We-we wondered why, but," she turned to the monstrous corpse on the grass. "I think we know why, now."

The other recruit, now almost as green in face as he'd been in experience before this, came over as well, and helped Thunderlane's horse up. He nodded in thanks at them, then gave the corpse a kick. Still didn't move. Bending down, he tried picking it up, and found it surprisingly light, like it was a big balloon. There was blood on his armor, now, blood the slowing rain was doing little to clean off. Gently, surprising even himself, he closed the eyelids of the thing, slowing the flow of blood somewhat. He looked at its still face, and wondered what secrets it hid. What was it? Why had it come here? Why had it attacked them? Its silent lips would keep whatever it knew secret forever, now. The rest of it, though, would still be able to speak, and more effectively than any words would to the governor and great houses. They might doubt Thunderlane's story, but they couldn't doubt this.

"We're taking it with us," he ordered. "We need to show the governor what we're fighting, and see just what it is ourselves."

The rain stopped as they loaded the unwieldy corpse, the recruit having the idea of tying it up in its net and lashing that to one of the horses. While it had taken a bit of convincing in order to get the steed to bear it, in the end it worked, and they rode away west with the sun rising behind them. But the dawn was cold, and of little hope; they saw clouds in the sunlight, clouds looming from the east, heavy rainclouds and thunderheads.

The things had come with the rain, and Thunderlane knew they would again.